Love Story
by Skyhiatrist
Summary: Helga tries to let go of Arnold by writing a love story with him which will give her the closure she needs. XCompleteX
1. Phoebe's Confession

A/N: My first HA! fic. Please be gentle! I own none of the characters. Reviews greatly appreciated. - Sky.

Phoebe Hyerdahl sat on a bench in the playground of PS118. All around her she could hear the familiar chatter of kids laughing and joking with one another, the echoing thuds from the kickball square, the screams of the older girls involved in naughty games of kiss chase. She smiled. This was when she was happiest, this was her calm. The world around her was so busy and yet she sat motionless, only her legs swinging back and forth where she was too short to reach the ground. Recess was a serene time for her, when she managed to snatch the time alone. No one went to bother her, no one wanted to disturb the most intelligent girl in the class. They knew she was thinking, deeply about whatever, homework the majority assumed. Her best friend, Helga G. Pataki, knew otherwise. She alone knew exactly how much there was under the surface of Phoebe, but she had stayed home today, struck down by the flu and rendered speechless by the very same. She had phoned Phoebe that morning, and croaked at her in a very threatening manner not to ask Mr. Simmons to send her homework out.

She placed the book she was pretending to read face down on the bench. Recess would be ending soon, and she wanted to spend the last few minutes looking around at the classmates who she adored more than they could ever know. Rhonda and her clique, walking around as though they owned the place but being just as frail as everyone else on the inside. Harold, Stinky and Sid, class clowns in her eyes, crouched on the floor around a chalked circle. They had been playing marbles, but now Sid and Stinky were searching for Sid's "Eliminator", which Harold had swallowed and was not admitting to. Dancing around by the four sqaures were Sheena and Eugene, Sheena with her oh so conservative values and Eugene, brimming with optomism despite being the world's biggest jinx. And speaking of optomism there was Arnold, sitting next to Gerald on the swings. Gerald Johanssen, she was still on the road to figuring him out. She could feel the warmth spread from her toes to her cute yellow scrunchie whenever he passed by, but her shyness and her uncertainty were her most crippling features, and she just couldn't take the next step. And then there was Arnold. She would never tell a soul, but deep down inside she hated him.

The bell rang, signalling the end of recess and the fourth grade class trooped back inside. After noisily scrabbling back to their desks, with more fuss than was really necessary, Mr. Simmons pulled down the world map which hung over the top of the blackboard and began their afternoon geography lesson. As the whold class scribbled down the names of cities in Africa that only Phoebe had ever heard of, Phoebe herself shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The weather outside had turned bitter in the middle of the week, and the cold was starting to get down her throat and into her lungs. She did not want to catch the flu that had enveloped Helga. Even if it was the weekend, there was a chance that she still might not be well enough to go back to school on Monday. She realised this was a goody-goody attitude, but she enjoyed school, she loved learning and she didn't care who knew it. She coughed politely and continued copying the names down in her extra neat handwriting.

Phoebe found that she had a slight headache developing towards the end of the lesson, but she carried on diligently anyway. The gaps between her polite coughs had become less and less, and the coughing itself was turning into a slight hacking. Her eyes began to water so much that she found she could not focus, so she allowed herself a few minutes break and stared at the back of Arnold's head for a little while, which was free of spitballs for a change. She didn't mean to hate him, she really didn't. In fact, she often considered herself to be one of the most well spirited people in the class, trying to see the good in everyone. But despite the fact that Arnold was the epitome of good, warm and friendly, there was just something about him that Phoebe couldn't stand. He was so perfect, so good, so _always damn well right_. She was caught unawares by a particually loud and violent cough, forgetting to cover her mouth and spraying the back of Arnold's head. He turned around to face her.

"Ooops, sorry Arnold," she said genuinely, in her sweet voice. She didn't like him, admittedly, but she wanted to and she wasn't in the business of being mean to anyone.

"That's ok," Arnold said with an accomdating smile. "Are you ok Phoebe?"

"Yes, Phoebe, are you feeling alright?" interjected Mr. Simmons. "Do you want to go to the nurse's office?"

"No thank you Mr. Simmons, I'm perfectly fine, but would it be alright if I stepped out to get a drink of water?"

"Of course Phoebe, and don't hesitate to tell me if you change your mind about the nurse." Phoebe slipped off her chair and walked to the door. Arnold shot her a warm smile as she left, and her insides burned with guilt. It wasn't right for her to dislike him, he was such a nice guy. She tiptoed down the halls, her tiny footsteps echoing louder than she would have liked. She stopped at the fountain leaned over to drink. For a second she was overtaken by dizziness, and slipping forward a little she managed to drench the left side of her hair. Phoebe cursed in Japanese and set off to the girl's toilets to dry herself.

When she arrived home later that day, Phoebe's headache had all but disappeared, and even her coughing had quietened down. Maybe it wasn't the flu catching up on her, maybe a slight chill had just crept down her chest. Nevertheless, her father gave her some Japanese herbal remedies that he said would 'nip it in the bud', and Phoebe decided to drink her special teas upstairs in her room while she got started on the weekend's homework assignments.

Midway through the poem she was writing for English, she heard the phone ringing from downstairs. She continued with her homework and let her mother answer.

"Phoebe!" he mother shouted from downstairs, "It's Helga for you!"

"Thank you mother!" she called back, and reached over to pick up the extension in her room. "Hello?" She heard the click of her mother replacing the receiver downstairs.

"Hey Pheebs," Helga said. Phoebe smiled.

"Hi Helga," she said cheerily. "You've got your voice back I see."

"Oh yeah, cleared up a treat as soon as Miriam phoned the school and told them I wouldn't be in today." Phoebe giggled along with Helga. "Look, I can't go out tonight, I've got the pretence to keep up, but do you wanna come out for ice cream tomorrow?"

"Ice cream?" Phoebe repeated in a sly voice.

"Yeah, ice cream," Helga said, sensing Phoebe's mental suspicions and aggressively bulldozing over them. "You know, cold stuff that tastes good." Phoebe stopped making implications about Helga's use of the phrase 'ice cream' straight away. It wasn't fair for her to make light of something Helga was so passionate about.

"I'd love to Helga," she said sweetly.

"Cool. Be round yours about three?" Helga may have been the bossy one of the outfit, but Phoebe loved the way Helga walked her everywhere, but graciously went home by herself after dropping Phoebe off. She knew that Phoebe had a slight fear of the dark, even though Phoebe had never mentioned it. Whenever Phoebe slept over at Helga's she always left her table lamp on, no questions asked.

"Excellent, bye Helga," said Phoebe, and she replaced the receiver.

The next day Helga arrived at Phoebe's way ahead of schedule. She seemed bubbly and nervous to Phoebe, as though she had drunk a whole pot of coffee during exam week. She rang Phoebe's doorbell continuously until Phoebe answered, and danced around her as they were walking along, wringing her hands together and making strangled noises. "Helga are you, er, ok?" Phoebe said tentively, worried that Helga might bite her head off.

"Yeah, fine, why wouldn't I be fine?" said Helga, her eyes dancing around the neighbourhood and looking anywhere but at Phoebe. They continued a few more paces along the street. "Ok, maybe I'm not fine," Helga blurted out.

"Really? What's wrong Helga?" said Phoebe, her voice laced with concern.

"Well, you see the thing is, it's like this, and," she was looking around wildly now, as though checking no one was about. Eventually she just swallowed and shook her head. "Never mind."

"Do you want to go somewhere else? Like, to the park or something?" Helga nodded silently, still looking around her like she was about to be ambushed. They walked to the park, through the mass of kids playing frisbee or flying kites, through the parents watching their toddlers play in the sand box. They sat down on a bench, dripping with moisture due to being next to the fountain.

"Aw criminy, that's just perfect!" cursed Helga, jumping up and wiping her hands over her pink dress, trying to get the water off. Phoebe remained seated, guessing that it wasn't going to get any worse. Helga accepted the same thing and sat back down. "So what's wrong Helga?" Phoebe asked timedly.

"Well, it's not so much that there's something wrong, just lately I've been feeling... I don't really know how to put it, I've just been feeling-"

"Like you could really go for some ice cream?" Phoebe said, finishing her sentence for her.

"Yeah," said Helga, slumping back in her seat, somewhat deflated. "I mean, I'm just sick of being such a freak, you know? I'm so mean and horrible and there's no way he'd-" Helga paused here and took a deep breath. She'd never outright told Phoebe how she felt about Arnold, even if Phoebe was her best friend. It was her secret, one that she needed to keep, but while it had once kept her sane it was now starting to drive her crazy. "He's never going to like me for who I am, is he? Not when I'm in the shadow of Little Miss Perfect." She scowled Lila's nickname.

Phoebe sighed, and started to swing her legs in that way she always did. She noticed how Helga's feet touched the ground, but didn't know why it mattered. "Have you ever thought that maybe _he_ isn't all that great?" Phoebe chanced bravely, not using Arnold's name just the way Helga hadn't. "I mean he's always so annoyingly good and right and he's so _perfect _himself. Maybe he and Lila are perfectly suited, they can go galivanting around the country saving puppies fom wells and feeding the ignorant." Phoebe was really starting to warm up now. "And he's so optomistic all the time, nothing ever goes wrong in his world, and he'd never break the rules, would he?" Phoebe had gotten to her feet in her anger. "And how can one boy be so dense to the lives of everyone around him! Oh no, everything will be ok for him! Everything!" She breathed heavily, and then modestly sat back down, shocked at her outburst. Helga was staring at her in astonishment.

"I, er, never knew you felt that way about him Pheebes," Helga said weakly.

"Neither did I," Phoebe whispered, well aware of the obstacle she had just placed between herself and her best friend.

When Helga got home that evening she was still reeling from what had happened in the park. The walk home had been one of the most awkward things Helga had ever experienced. She had tried, for Phoebe's sake, to try and gloss over what Phoebe had said, she had even tried to agree. Arnold was a goody two shoes, he was cringingly optomistic, but every word she had said had felt like someone was plunging a traitorous knife into her own heart. She didn't feel anything that Phoebe did. She loved Arnold's enthusiasm, she admired the way he always felt compelled to help everyone out, he was just breath-takingly amazing. And she felt so much for him, she couldn't betray him to Phoebe, even if he had no idea how she felt. When she had said goodbye to Phoebe from the Hyerdahl stoop that night, her insides boiled with anger toward her best friend.

Her little pink book had been cracked open once more that night, she had wanted to pen the most heart felt poem to Arnold yet, one that truely expressed what he meant to her, not the half-baked she had muttered to Phoebe. Phoebe herself had backtracked as they walked, trying to say that maybe he wasn't that bad, but then eventually confessing that she couldn't really explain why she hated him. Helga paused, her pen an inch from the clean white paper. Inspiration grabbed her, and she pushed the nib down defiantly.

_Arnold, my secret love,_

_Arnold, my one and only,_

_Arnold, if you could only see me,_

_Instead I lie here lonely._

_Your eyes are distracted,_

_You are taken in by her,_

_A girl who's nothing like me,_

_The Miss Perfect that is Lila._

_She will never love you,_

_The way I want you so,_

_You are my world, my love,_

_I wish I could let you go._

_But forever I am trapped by you, _

_And you will never notice me,_

_Are you as great as I believe?_

_An angel has delivered me._

_Today my best friend told me,_

_You are not worth my time,_

_Could she be right about you?_

_Will you ever be mine?_

_Tonight I release you Arnold,_

_Tonight I set myself free, _

_No longer will I long for you,_

_You do not deserve me._

Helga dropped her pen onto her bed, stunned at the words she had written. Phoebe's words had really gotten to her, and maybe she was right. She had spent her life longing for Arnold, and he had never so much as looked her way. Of course, she knew she was to blame. She had been the one who had shunned him and pushed him away. Insulted him when he was only trying to help, betraying her heart and digging her own emotional grave. Well, now she was done. She would never let herself be nice to him, and he would never look past Lila. Helga Pataki stood up, walked over to her closet, and dismantled eight years of obsession.

A few blocks over, the smartest girl in P.S.118 finally managed to put two and two together. She jumped up and reached for her phone, hoping against hope that it wasn't too late.


	2. Frog Fishin'

A/N: Thanks to DarthRoden for the encouragement. :) I realise this chapter comes out rather soon, but I was struck by inspiration (at 04:30 this morning!)

Arnold and Gerald sat lazily on the steps outside of the Sunset Arms, idly tossing a ball to one another. It was Sunday, and both boys were broke and lacking in things to do. "You want to go over to Gerald field and play a bit of baseball?" Arnold suggested.

"No can do Arnold, we lost the bat under a bus last week remember?" Gerald replied, throwing the ball too wide for Arnold, who almost fell off his step trying to reach it. Arnold begrudgingly got up and retrieved it.

"You wanna go throw rocks at dumpster?" he said in a scowling voice, and both boys laughed.

"That's the best impression of Helga G. Pataki I've heard in a long time," Gerald said, and he began to laugh even harder.

"Whatcha laughing at fellas?" came the familiar drawl of Stinky Peterson. He was ambling up behind Gerald in his usual lanky fashion, accompanied by Sid and Harold. They too looked bored as sin, it was just one of thise days.

"Oh Arnold's just making with the funny as usual," said Gerald in a tired tone. The boys sat around on Arnold's stoop, not talking, just contemplating their wasted weekend. Suddenly, Sid sat up with a jerk.

"Right, that's it, I'm going frog catching. Who's with me?" This was followed by rallying cries of agreement, and together the five boys set off for the muddy pond.

It had been a great trial for Helga to heave herself out of bed that morning.Without Arnold to worship she felt empty and lost. She still had the feelings for him, they weren't as easy to throw out as all the poetry and chewed bits of gum, but she was repressing them, denying them in the hope that they would just melt away. She had sluggishly pulled her pink dress over her head and brushed her hair up into it's usual pigtails. For a second she had considered not looping her bow on top of her head as usual, it was her safety net on any other day. Arnold liked her bow. If she had it on her head, Arnold liked something about her, and that sustained her and kept her hopeful. But now that Arnold was no longer her be all and end all, she had no need for it. However, she put it on anyway. It completed her.

That morning, as she refused to spoon soggy cornflakes down her throat despite her mother's protests, Miriam just assumed she was still suffering the aftermath of her flu. Helga wouldn't have gotten out of bed at all if it hadn't been for Phoebe's late night call to her, begging her to meet her at her house. She said she had something very important to say, something that would explain everything and something that she couldn't just say to her over the phone. Helga knew that she just wanted to apologise in person, but she went along with it anyway. After she had left the house, with absolutely no protest from her mother, Helga trudged to Phoebe's house with her eyes fixed on the pavement. She was still battling the war inside her with her loyalty to Phoebe, her love of Arnold, and the undeniable need she had to defend him.

She rang Phoebe's doorbell and sighed. She had never realised that accepting the truth and letting go of Arnold would leave her feeling so low. It was Phoebe's mother who answered. "Hello there Helga," she said in her warm Kentucky accent.

"Hey Mrs. Hyerdahl, is Phoebe home?" Helga droned.

"No I'm afraid she isn't. That nice Gerald boy invited her to the pond with all the other kids. She said you'd be round though and she asked me to tell you to meet her there." Helga nodded and set off for the pond. She wasn't in the mood to face 'all the other kids', she wasn't much in the mood to speak to anyone, but she went along anyway. The whole journey there she contemplated giving in to her feelings, but she had suffered enough. She was just going through a rough patch, things would get better, they just had to. It's never easy to let go of the one you love.

When Helga arrived at the pond, she saw that Mrs. Hyerdahl hadn't been exaggerating. Every kid from Helga's fourth grade class was gathered around the pond, even Rhonda, who usually avoided mud like the plague. She was leaning against a tree, chatting to Nadine and examining her nails. "What are you doing here Princess?" Helga grunted as she shuffled past. Rhonda shrugged.

"Nothing else to do."

Helga scanned the crowds for Phoebe, but as usual, her eyes came to rest on Arnold. He was laughing and playing with a frog he had just caught. Her heart felt like it would shatter, and tears formed in her eyes. She couldn't let him go, she just couldn't. Without him, she had nothing, she needed him, no matter what Phoebe said. She felt someone tugging on her arm. "Hey Pheebs," she said, in barely a whisper.

"You're looking at him still, aren't you?" Phoebe sighed.

"I'm pathetic, aren't I?" said Helga, finally tearing her eyes away and plopping herself down on a moss covered log.

"No Helga, I get what you see in him, I really do," said Phoebe in her usual fairy voice. Something snapped in Helga's head, she made an equation of her own.

"Don't say you-" Helga gulped, "you like him too? God Phoebe, don't I have competition enough? You're supposed to be my best friend, and here you are conspiring against me!" Helga angrily got to her feet. "This is why you dragged me down here? To make my life that much harder?" She stomped off, and Phoebe made to stop her.

"Helga, I-" she began, but Helga was already half way towards leaving. Helga stopped next to Rhonda, not being able to carry on, the pain and hurt inside her building up and stopping her in her tracks. She leaned against a tree, clutching at her chest and doing everything in her power not to burst into hysterical screams. She wanted to run, but she couldn't move.

"Are you ok Helga?" asked Rhonda, for once genuinely concerned. Helga had a cutting remark on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't wheeze it past her lips. Thankfully for her, everyone's attention was grabbed by Sheena's voice crackling over a megaphone.

"Ok everyone, time for a little competiton! You've been divided into two teams and Sid, you're not allowed to compete." Sid's cries of outrage could be heard without a megaphone, but he was appeased when Sheena told him it was only because he was too good and it would be unfair. Helga snorted and sat back down to compose herself, as the teams dove into the water. She noticed that Arnold, too, wasn't competing. Phoebe came and sat next to her, and before Helga could say or do anything, Phoebe spoke.

"I don't have a crush on Arnold, Helga," she said quickly.

"Oh really, so what's with the pretending to hate him all of the sudden?" Helga said, emphasising the word pretending, half to accuse Phoebe of lying and half to make it not true.

"I'm not pretending," Phoebe said meekly, and Helga's heart sank.

"But you said you could see why I..." she couldn't say _'love him'. _It was what she was trying to escape.

"But now I understand why I... object to him," Phoebe said eagerly. "You're my best friend-"

"So? What's that got to do with anything?" Helga snapped, cutting her off.

"You see-"

"You guys not catching frogs?" came a familiar voice, and Phoebe rolled her eyes at being interrupted once more.

"Well doi," said Helga scathingly, cursing herself and feeling Phoebe's reproachful look.

"Oh, well, they're coming back in now, I hope Gerald's team wins," Arnold said supportively, trying to get along. He had never had a reason to believe Phoebe disliked him, and he liked Helga, regardless. He couldn't explain it, he just did. Maybe it was because she was so different to all the other girls he knew.

"Whoopee," Helga said sarcastically and slumped forward. Even Arnold noticed that she was feeling low. Just then all the other kids swarmed in from the pond and begun counting their frogs and tossing them back into the pond. Gerald's team won by a long way, and he and Arnold exchanged their usual best friend's handshake.

Later that day everyone was gathered at the side of the pond, watching the sun set and lazily chatting amongst themselves. Phoebe and Helga had stayed too, Phoebe talking about anything except Arnold, although she had now made it very clear to Helga that she had no romantic intentions toward him. Helga herself had been drawing love hearts in the dirt with a stick, tracing in Arnold's initials and hastily scratching them out when she thought someone was coming, not really listening to Phoebe at all. Eventually the whole group got into a discussion about school, even Phoebe participated but Helga sat on the sidelines, feeling sad.

"I don't see why we have to go to school five days a week," wailed Harold, "why can't we learn just one day a week, or none?"

"This way we can learn the most while or brains can absorb it much easily Harold," Phoebe chimed in.

"And Simmons is such a "special" teacher," Rhonda mocked.

"Hey, c'mon," interjected Arnold, "he's not that bad."

"Oh of course, you'd defend him," Phoebe cut in, and Arnold looked at her, amazed. No one else seemed to have noticed it though and Arnold let it pass.

"Don't we have that project next week, that one that's supposed to 'ecourage co-operation'?" Sid sneered.

"Oh, the one with the _lurve story_?" Stinky drawled in a dreamy voice.

"What project is this?" Arnold ask, genuinely not knowing what they were one about.

"Oh you know," Rhonda explained, "the project where we have to pair up and write a love story, and we have to agree on every detail. Like whether it has a sad or happy ending and everything. At least we get to pick who we pair up with." _My love story would have a sad ending_, thought Helga. She hated Simmons and his love of pairing them up and making them co-operate. Especially when Simmons knew how astounding her creative writing could be when she was left to her own devices.

"That sounds ever so wonderful," Lila gushed.

"It's going to be a nightmare, I hate all that schmultzy stuff," groaned Gerald.

"I don't know Gerald," said Arnold cheekily, slyly looking at Lila, "it could be fun." Phoebe snapped.

"Oh Arnold, that's it! You're always so upbeat, aren't you! Well stop it! Stop walking around like everything's so great for you, forcing your sickly-sweet optimism down our throats! You don't know how everyone here is feeling, maybe they're not in the mood for you to be so bright and sunny, maybe it's killing them!" Her eyes flicked to Helga, who was watching her in astonishment, as was everyone else. "You drive me, and I'm sure some other people, crazy! And do you know what the worst part is? Do you?" She was shrieking at Arnold now. He was sitting with his mouth hanging open as if Phoebe had slapped him. He slowly shook his head. "The worst part is that you're so damn dense!" And with that Phoebe stamped out of the woods and walked home on her own for the first time in her life.

Helga quickly found herself the centre of attention, which was the last thing she wanted to be. "What was all that about?" Gerald said to her, throwing Arnold a worried sideways glance. Any feelings he may have been slowly building up for Phoebe had been burned out in that second. Arnold was staring at his hands, he'd never been yelled at like that before and he certainly didn't expect it from Phoebe. "Well?" Gerald demanded of Helga again. The dejected shrug and incoherent mumble that came from Helga seemed to throw everyone off. She didn't even look up from the dirty ground. Everyone made their excuses at this point and began to wander home, until only Arnold and Helga were left alone, both too absorbed in their sadness and disbelief to speak.


	3. Together Again

The next day the atmosphere was very tense in the fourth grade class room at PS118. Mr. Simmons, with his bright an breezy outlook, didn't seem to notice however, and blundered on with his lessons regardeless. Phoebe noticed that everyone was giving her a wide berth, and she didn't blame them. Helga had loyally taken up her spot next to her in class, and while she was a little more talkative today, she was still obviously engulfed in her depression. But Helga had to admit, she felt better today, as though her feelings for Arnold were slowly slipping away now she wasn't letting them get to her anymore. She was, however, slightly saddened at how easy it was turning out to be to let him go.

Arnold himself had spent a sleepless night going over what Phoebe had said. People had objected to his sunny dispositon before, he was used to it, and he wasn't willing to change it. But to him it felt like Phoebe hadn't been insulting him for it entirely, she had just felt it was terribley appropriate that day. Arnold had noticed that Helga seemed particually low that day, so maybe Phoebe was mad at him for not adjusting his mood. But what had she meant by that 'dense' remark? He was sitting at the front of the class today, resting his chin is his hands and not being suprised by the lack of spitballs that day.

In fact, no one seemed to be acting like their usual selves. They were all quiet, not used to there being such heavy conflict in their normally friendly group.

It was lunch time, and Phoebe had spent all morning deciding that the cafeteria would be the best place for her to make amends. She would find Arnold, apologise for being so out of order and try to make everything right again. She had realised why she hated him, but everyone had secrets and Phoebe was well aware that this was one best left kept. She stumbled into the lunch queue with Helga, who insisted she was alright but didn't get very much to eat. They located their usual table in the corner and Phoebe scanned the room for Arnold, while Helga picked at her meatloaf with a fork and sighed occasionally.

"I'm just going to go somewhere Helga, I'll be back soon," Phoebe said in her sweet voice. Helga knew that she was off to apologise to Arnold. Helga didn't know why she had exploded at him, it was so out of character for her and Helga was slightly worried. It had really brought her back down to earth, reminded her that things existsed outside of Arnold. It may only have been two days since she had given him up, cold turkey, but she was desperate to move on and start giving a damn about something else for a change. She watched with interest as Phoebe approached Arnold's table.

"Hey, um, Arnold, can I speak to you for a minute please?" She squeaked nervously. Arnold looked up from his sandwich. Part of him wanted to say no, to be as rude to her as she was to him, but he knew it wasn't in his nature. Besides, he wanted to find out what her problem with him had been yesterday.

"Sure," he said coolly.

"Um, in private?"

"Oh, of course," said Arnold, getting to his feet and actually feeling a bit dense. She obviously wanted to apologise, but it would be cruel of him to make her do it in front of everyone. They stepped out into the empty hall and stood by the water fountain pretending to drink, incase any hall monitors happened to chance by.

"Look, I want to say I'm sorry, I was in a bad mood yesterday and I didn't really mean to take it out on you," she said.

"It's ok, but you're sure you don't have, like, some sort of problem with me? I mean, that dense remark was pretty personal."

"No Arnold, it's not like that at all," said Phoebe, stumbling over her words in a vain attempt to try and lie her way out of a sticky situation.

"You sure?" said Arnold, disbelievingly. "It hasn't got anything to do with Helga?"

"What?" Phoebe shrieked, mentally kicking herself for giving away more than she had meant to. Maybe he wasn't so dense after all.

"You know, cause she was so down yesterday and I was being so cheery. Thought maybe you thought I wasn't being sensitive to her or something. Why's she so down anyway?"

"Oh," said Phoebe, sighing in relief, "that. Well, er, I don't really know. You know Helga, she's such a private person." She let out a faint chuckle.

"But she seems really down, not like her at all," Arnold mused.

"And how would you know what she's really like?" Phoebe snapped again, before catching herself. "Sorry Arnold, I guess that bad mood isn't all gone yet."

"It's ok," said Arnold, smiling, "I understand. And you're right, I guess I don't really know what she's like." But as he and Phoebe walked back into the cafeteria, Arnold was determined to find out.

That afternoon Mr. Simmons got started on his new co-operation project. He had decided to make this one his best yet, he was so desperate for the kids to get along perfectly, but his previous attempts had all ended in disaster. With a slight groan he recounted Arnold and Helga's Biosquare project. They may have worked together in the end, but it was apparent from how they behaved in class that the lesson hadn't stuck. Those two were his own personal project, but he would crack them in the end.

The class shuffled in, the tension not so apparent now that the whole class had heard that Phoebe had apologised and Arnold had explained her outburst. Gerald was beginning to warm to her again, having filed her upset under the fact that everybody had bad days. Helga was sitting at the back of the class again, relieved that her beloved Arnold was feeling better once more, but then reminding herself that he wasn't her beloved Arnold anymore.

"Alright class, now, as you all know, I have a very special assignment for you all to start today. I want you to get into pairs, with someone of the opposite gender, and I want you to write a beautiful love story. It can have a happy ending or a sad ending, and can take place whenever you want, with whoever you want. But the important thing is, you must agree on every detail. Just keep going until you find a plot you like. Ok everyone, pair up!"

Gerald immediately made a bee-line for Phoebe, a sure sign that everything was forgiven. Sheena and Eugene predictably ended up together, and Curly begged Rhonda to pair up with him, and was promptly shunned. Helga expected to end up with him instead, but was shocked to her very core when she saw Arnold heading for her instead. She glanced round at Lila, who's cheeks had tinged pink when she saw that nobody had chosen yet. Helga allowed herself a guilty smirk, she was certain that Little Miss Perfect had expected Arnold to be snapping at her heels. It was then that Helga remebered Arnold was aiming for her instead, and she snapped into her mean demeanour.

"Helga?" he said. "Can I pair up with you?"

"Me? Why would you want to team up with me, football head?" she sneered.

"Well, you know, you're really good at writing stories and I'm pretty rubbish," he said with a small laugh.

"I don't doubt it Arnoldo," she barked, and then reprimanded herself. She no longer had to hide her desires behind this smokescreen of ill temper, she was getting over him now, she might as well be nice. "Ok, fine, I'll help you out, you could use it." She scooched over in her chair and made room for him to sit down. While he grabbed a seat, she got out her notebook and her trusty purple pen and began to panic about the situation she had just placed herself in. Here she was, trying to get over Arnold, and she had decided that she would let him spend the next two weeks being her partner as they wrote a soppy love story together. She groaned as he sat down beside her, and slumped her head on the table.

"You ok, Helga?" he asked, looking at the back of her head on the desk.

"Fine," she muttered into her notebook, and then snapped her head up. "Just a headache. Right, let's get started on this thing then," she sighed.

"Ok, do we want a happy ending or a sad ending?" said Arnold.

"Sad ending," said Helga without hesitation. Arnold noticed she seemed to be saying it more to herself than to him.

"Really?" he said, suprised.

"Well, er yeah," said Helga, backtracking, "we're fourth graders, everyone in the class is bound to do a happy ending. Sheena and Eugene don't like anything downbeat, Rhonda's story is bound to be fabulous and all about her, and let's face it, Gerald and Phoebe will want to write the story of them, won't they?"

"That's true, so if we do a sad ending, ours will stand out more?"

"Exactly football head," Helga said, and Arnold couldn't help but notice how fondly she said it.

The class continued to work diligently on their projects while Mr. Simmons sat behind his desk, writing down the names of the pairs so who wouldn't forget who was with who when they continued on their assignments tomorrow. He was delighted to see that Helga and Arnold had chosen to work together without any encouragment from him at all, maybe he was starting to get through to them. The bell rang, and Mr. Simmons dismissed them, telling them he couldn't wait for them to continue with their stories the next day.

"Ever notice how we always seem to work together Helga?" Arnold said as they walked out of the classroom.

"Yeah, I blame Simmons," Helga replied, and laughing they separated to find their best friends.

"You certainly seemed to have cheered up Helga," Phoebe said perkily on the bus home from school that day

"You bet Pheebs, I've decided that I don't want ice cream any more, it doesn't seem to agree with me, but I'm perfectly happy sharing space with it and just being it's friend. Now me and ice cream get along just fine."

"You're sure you still don't want a just a little taste?" Phoebe said, with a hint of naughtiness in her voice. Helga fixed her with a serious stare.

"If I get a taste, I'll want the whole sundae, and that's something I can't have, because the ice cream is always eyeing someone else's spoon. Maybe I'm lactose intolerant," she added. Helga slumped back in her seat, a familiar pang of jealousy shooting through her as she watched Arnold stealing glances at Lila instead of her.

That night, as Helga lay on her bed not writing love poems for the first time she could remember, she realised the thing she really needed to get over Arnold was closure, and she knew just how to get it. She needed to tell him she was over him without him ever knowing she had feelings for him in the first place. She would manipulate their story into a tale of unrequited love that mirrored her own, and that ended with the lovelorn heroine giving up on the man she loved, and the object of her desire never being any the wiser. That would be just perfect.


	4. A Different Kind Of Love

The next day Arnold and Helga shared the same desk once more, and playfully jostled for elbow room. Helga knew it spelled bad news, she could feel herself falling ever deeper, but she couldn't stop herself. When they were like this, as friends, she wanted him even more. When she was admiring him from afar she could turn away and he would be gone, but when they were together like this, she had to give him her full attention and in return he gave her his. After all, wasn't that all she had ever really wanted? A little of his attention? And now she had it when she was trying to let him go. It wasn't fair. She folded her arms defiantly and looked towards Phoebe, away from Arnold. She didn't want Arnold to see the tears in her eyes, and only Phoebe would understand them.

Mr. Simmons brushed into the room and set them to work at once on their stories. Helga turned back and faced Arnold, hoping the tears in her eyes had cleared up. They must have done, because Arnold's expression didn't change. "So, do you have any ideas Helga?"

"Well, I did have one last night that I thought was pretty good," she said nervously, hoping that Arnold would go along with it. Simmons had said that they had to agree on every aspect, and Arnold was just headstrong enough to contest her.

"Great, what is it?" said Arnold, who had spent last night racking his brains for thoughts but kept drifting away into fantasies of him and Lila. He liked Helga's idea of a sad story though, so he tried to get them out of his mind. He was more than relieved that Helga had something, and knowing Helga, it was bound to be good.

"Well, I haven't really padded it out yet but basically it's about this girl who's in love with this boy, but he doens't notice her so in the end she just gives up on him." _In love_? Had she actually used that phrase? She shook her head slightly to clear it.

"Wow, that sounds really good. You know, simple but really sad at the same time. I like it Helga," Arnold replied, and putting their heads together they began work on chapter one.

_Amanda looked at Henry from the back of the auditorium. He made her knees tremble, even when he wasn't looking at her. So long she had carried this desire for him, wanted him to turn around and say he loved her too, but he wouldn't. Amanda knew that. He was too taken in by the pretty young things that giggled his way to ever notice plain old Amanda in the background, a girl consumed by her own temper and her wishes to be left alone. The Principal rambled on about field trips and lunch breaks, and Amanda continued to watch, transfixed by the boy with cornflower hair..._

"Wow, he sort of has hair like mine huh?" Arnold commented. Helga stumbled over her papers. She had just been writing, absorbed by her story, not noticing that her lead man was turning into Arnold.

"Er, yeah, well, I guess I am sort of basing him on you, you know, in appearence. Just cause you're here and all, saves me some thinking." She stuttered over her excuses, her eyes darting every which way like they always did when she was caught short.

"Maybe we could base Amanda on you," Arnold suggested offhandedly.

"What?" Helga gasped. "But I don't-"

"Oh yeah, I know," Arnold replied calmly, "I meant, just, you know, in appearance."

"You saying I'm plain?" Helga scowled, but in a joking manner.

"Oh no, not at all," said Arnold absently, staring back at the first paragraph of the story. "I think you're actually quite pretty." Helga bit her lip and put her head down to carry on writing.

Mr. Simmons informed the class that it would be good for them to get together some time in the week, as he hoped to have their stories finished by Friday. The class was as one in their outrage.

"But you said we had two weeks!" screamed Rhonda. "I haven't even finished developing Courtney's character fully yet!"

"We're not even in the middle so far!" Gerald cried, as Phoebe's brain automaticaly set itself on overdrive. She would have it finished in time, come Hell or high water. Arnold and Helga remained silent. Their story had actually been coming along in leaps and bounds, Helga found it so easy to write and Arnold's suggestions had suprisingly fit in with Helga's plot. It was even his idea to introduce the ever so perfect Terri, object of Henry's affections. Helga was worried that Arnold might be clocking on to her, but he was just as oblivious as ever.

"You want to come over to the boarding house tonight, finish this chapter?" Arnold asked sweetly.

"Sure thing football head," Helga replied, astonished that her heart wasn't leaping up her throat and out of her mouth. How many times had she lay awake at night, just waiting for the day when Arnold would invite her over to his house? And now that he had, it didn't seem like such a big deal after all. Maybe she was finally starting to move on.

_Henry held out his hand, offering to help Amanda up. Begrudgingly she took it, while inwardly shivering at his glorious touch. His hand felt like it belonged in hers, and for a moment she was lost again in her world of whirlwind fantasies. He muttered his apologies to her for knocking her down, and continued on his way. She watched him from behind the corner until she could not see him anymore, and she sighed. Why was she always so harsh to him, so cruel with her tongue? He was the one she wanted above all others, and yet she would never let him know. By now she felt it had gotten to the point where she had been so mean he would never see her like that. She didn't blame him, and she dragged herself home so she could be alone..._

Helga couldn't help but notice how similar the story was getting to her own now, and she hesitated in showing him the fresh paragraph. She watched him nervously as his eyes scanned the page, twisting her pencil between her hands. _Please don't let him see_, she thought, _Please..._

"Wow Helga, this is so good," Arnold said breathlessly. "It's really touching you know, I feel so bad for Amanda." Helga smiled. "Helga, could I er, could I write the next paragraph?" Helga was taken aback. When they had started the project Arnold had insisted that she pen every word, she was so much more elegent with them than he was. But then, she had agreed to co-operate with him. She handed over the now brutally chewed pencil.

"Sure thing Arnoldo, can I get a glass of milk from your kitchen while you do?" she said, suprised by her niceness and how well she had been treating him lately.

"Course," said Arnold, and he began scribbling furiously on the page.

Helga closed the fridge door and drained her glass of milk in one big gulp. She set her glass down and turned to go back upstairs to Arnold's room. "How's the story coming Helga?" came a voice. Helga spun around. Arnold's grandpa was leaning against the door frame.

"Pretty well thanks, Arnold's just writing another chapter. We should be done in an hour or so," she said politely.

"Ah that's good, that's good. I always said the Short Man could be a little more creative, and it's so nice to see you two finally getting along," Phil stopped, aware that he may have just put his foot in it.

"Uh yeah, I guess I should get back up to him before he introduces UFOs or something crazy," Helga gushed, and ran back upstairs to Arnold's room. Phil sat down at the kitchen table and sighed.

"And there I hoped Arnold would stop being so blind," he said, taking a banana from the fruit bowl.

"What's that Philip?" said Arnold's grandma as she entered the room.

"I was just saying it looks like Arnold's little friend with the one eyebrow has given up Pookie," he sighed.

"Aw, that's a shame," she replied, taking a ham from the fridge and charging into the hall with it tucked under her arm, before declaring herself the winner of the Superbowl.

Arnold sat on his bed, hugging his knees and chewing his lip, wondering how his writing was holding up against the flowing beauty of Helga's. She was reading the paper carefully, holding it close to her nose with no expression on her face. This betrayed her however, she was spellbound.

_Henry looked at Amanda. She was so out there, so harsh, but he knew that wasn't who she really was. He had known her to be sweet, to be kind and conscientious, she was a good person, she was just a little rough around the edges. Beyond that she was a genuinely nice person, Henry just wished she would show it more. These thoughts were quickly robbed from him however, when Terri walked by. There was a girl he could really fall for, maybe already had. She was good through and through, she was so perfect for him. She was just so perfect, period..._

"It's really good Arnold, I'm really impressed," she said, handing the paper back to him.

"You really think so?" he said.

"Oh yeah, I especially liked the "rough around the edges" the part, it's cool."

"You said that to me once, about yourself," Arnold said, a little to himself.

"I did?" asked Helga, racking her brains trying to remember.

"Oh, not in real life. In this dream I had." Arnold had lapsed into a dreamy state, he was feeling pretty tired. Helga yawned, she was feeling sleepy too. She got to her feet.

"I'm gonna head home Arnold, I'll see you tomorrow," she said, but Arnold was already asleep. She took the paper from his hand and covered him with a blanket. "Good night, Arnold," she whispered, and she slipped out of his room and into the cold night air.

Helga found that despite her wearyness she had trouble getting to sleep that night. Her obsession with Arnold was gone, she knew that. No longer did she want to dance around her room, singing his name at the top of her lungs. No longer did she want to write reams and reams of poetry devoted to him, long into the night. No longer did she want to stand up in front of him and profess her love for him in a childish, puppylove kind of way. No, now she just wanted this assignment to last forever.


	5. Gaps

A/N: Only a short one.

Friday quickly rolled around, and nobody in the class, bar Phoebe and Gerald, had finished their stories. Although Phoebe sat proudly at the front of the class fondly straightening her folder, she was complaining to Gerald that it really wasn't her best work. She wished she had the weekend to revise it. Mr. Simmons started the class in his usual, happy fashion.

"Ok class, who's completely finished their assignment?" Even Phoebe didn't raise her hand, much to Gerald's suprise. She shot him a 'I-can't-hand-_this_-in' look and he didn't say a word. "No one?" Mr. Simmons ventured. Still no response. He sighed. "Ok, Monday then please class?" he said exasperated, and he continued on with their usual lessons.

At lunch time, Arnold decided to speak to Helga about finishing their story, but she was no where to be seen. He went to ask Phoebe, but she just waved him away and continued her conversation with Gerald. He looked around the cafeteria one last time and then chanced out into the hall. Rhonda met him on the way out. "If you're looking for Helga, she's in the toilets, sobbing her heart out," she said as if she couldn't care less. Arnold fixed her with a cold stare, but she wasn't looking at him. He felt for Helga, he wondered what could possibly be wrong. He wanted to go and find out, but there was no way he could go into the girl's toilets. He went back to the cafeteria and told Phoebe what Rhonda had said. Like lightning Phoebe sprang into action, leaving Arnold to sit in her place and ignore Gerald's questions about what was going on.

Phoebe pushed open the door to the girl's toilets. It clunked heavily back into place as she crouched down, looking under the stalls, checking for feet. "Helga? It's me, Phoebe." She immediately heard the sound of a lock being unbolted. It was on the very end stall.

"I thought you were Princess Rhonda coming back for another go," she whispered. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her voice sounded small.

"What's wrong Helga?" Phoebe asked, entering the stall and re-locking the door behind her. She put her arms around her best friend's shoulders. For a while Helga said nothing, just let out spasmodic sobs which Phoebe replied to with a reassuring squeeze.

"This was meant to be me getting over him Phoebe," she finally whispered. "Finally admitting defeat and letting go."

"But you can't?"

"I'll never let go of Arnold," she whispered, blessing his name as it breathed through her lips.

Helga had asked for five minutes alone while she cleaned herself up towards the end of lunch, so Phoebe returned to the cafeteria. As she expected, she was immediately met at the door by and anguished Arnold.

"Phoebe! Phoebe, is Helga ok?" he asked worriedly.

"She's fine, she's just cleaning herself up."

"What's wrong with her, did something happen at home?" He really was quite concerned about her. Phoebe swallowed. Maybe now it really was the time.

"Arnold, remember when I said you were dense?"

"Yeah," he said.

"But that I was just in a bad mood and I didn't really mean it?"

"Yeah..."

"I take it back. You really are dense." And with that she went and sat back down with Gerald, not giving him another look. So she didn't hate Arnold after all, she hated the way he made Helga love him. She had spent too long watching Helga waste away under his thrall, and he was far too blind to do anything about it. He was such a social samaritan, helping the helpless, no matter what, but he had spent years staring straight through the person who needed his help most of all.

Later that day, when the class were all back in the classroom, eager to get out into the Friday afternoon sun and the weekend, Helga sat at the back of the classroom. Her head was buried in her arms and she felt worse than ever. She prayed the time would go quickly, so she could get home and be by herself. Arnold kept throwing her worried glances, and she wished he wouldn't look at her with those tragically beautiful eyes. But Arnold needed to speak to her, to ask her what Phoebe had meant, but he didn't know how to go about it. Finally, the bell rang and the class rushed out, with Mr. Simmons' final reminder about their stories ringing in their ears.

Arnold caught up with Helga, who had been one of the first people out of the class. "Helga! We need to talk about our story!" Helga stopped in her tracks, dread filling her stomach, making her feel like she might throw up.

"What about it," she said tonelessly.

"Well, we need to get together to finish it this weekend," he said, feeling stupid.

"I tell you what, why don't you let me finish the last chapter? I'll take it round to yours on Sunday and you can read it and see if it's ok." She sounded tired, almost bored. "I want to see how it all turns out."

"Um, ok, Helga," said Arnold, not knowing what it was he was missing. He was left standing alone in the corridor as Helga's sad figure disappeared into the world.


	6. I've Let You Go

A/N: This chapter contains a lyric that I've borrowed from the Alkaline Trio. I don't think they'll mind.

On Sunday, Arnold awoke to the sound of his Grandpa shouting up the stairs. "Arnold! There's something here for you!" Arnold ran downstairs still in his pyjamas and took the letter from his Grandpa. He thought about opening it there in the hall, but found himself wanting to read it alone. Helga's words reverberated around his mind. _'I want to see how it all turns out.' _He didn't quite understand yet, but he was starting to, and he knew the answers lay in this final chapter. He wasn't as dense as Phoebe said, he had noticed the similarities, but he didn't think it meant that much. He sat cross legged on his bed and looked at the envelope. It was pink. He smiled, _just like Helga _he thought. 'Arnold' was printed across the front in delicate handwriting.

With a grin on his face he tore the envelope open and unfurled the final chapter. It wasn't that long, but maybe that was just Helga's writing style. As he began to read, his expression changed from a grin to something much more solemn.

_Henry watched Amanda_

_Amanda wondered how Henry could be so blind_

_As Amanda wrote her final goodbyes... her final testament.. she would still see him_

_As Amanda wrote her final poem for Henry, a goodbye to her desires_

_Ok, this is it. No more hiding._

_Helga signed off her last ode to the boy she had loved unconditionally for so many years. Now was the right time to tell him, to get it all off her chest at last. If she didn't tell Arnold soon she would die, but now she was only telling him so she could move on. She had tried to do it without him knowing, but it was no good. Her mind would not let her rest on her laurels on so much wasted passion. She read back the words she had just written._

_"Arnold, I remember when we first met. We were only young, you and I. I had been shunned by my family, forced to walk in the bitter weather. You shielded me, you smiled at me. God Arnold, at that young age you even complimented me! It's why, at my age, I still wear the silly floppy bow in my hair. Because YOU liked it. It still matches my clothes, did you notice? Do you even remember? I guess not. But you started something that day Arnold, you spawned an obsession which I now realise I have to let go of, because you will never be mine. You didn't even realise how I felt, did you? How could you? I was so mean, so spiteful, desperate for you to never know how much I loved you. I don't need to give anyone else ammunition to use against me._

_Do you remember how I cracked, that night on the top of FTI? How you goaded me into revealing that which I had kept secret for so long? I told you I loved you, head over heels, but I never told you of all the schemes and plots and plans I had concocted, just to get close to you. How I resented Ruth, and how much I despised Lila for winning your affections. And the worst part? She turned you down. What a fool! What a complete imbecile! She could have your kisses as soon as soon she asked, whereas I would be lucky to even feel your breath. _

_I was your Valentine once. Remember?_

_But I can't do this anymore Arnold. I can't keep torturing myself and you any longer. When you see me tomorrow you can say what you will. You can say you never knew, you can apologise for being so blind, but know it will be empty to me. I don't mean to make you feel bad Arnold, but the part of my life that revolved around you is over. It's gone and I never want it back. I guess now you know all this a lot of things are falling into place huh? The little pink book, the locket with your picture, my masquerade as Lila... it was all for you, Arnold. My own little sanctuary and my own private Hell, all rolled into once. And this is goodbye. Not to you Arnold, but to myself, the part of me yearned for you, that I've finally killed off at last. If it was up to me I'd never have to miss you, but it's for the better, and the bitter, and I guess you know the best._

_All my love forever,_

_Helga G. Pataki"_

_She signed the note with a kiss, folded it carefully and pushed inside a pretty pink envelope. She took great care writing his name on the front, trying to make the moment last forever. As she walked over to his house, she kept her hand closed on the note in her pocket, eager that she not lose it, knowing inside that he would never tell a soul. They would take this secret to their graves, and that was how Helga needed it. Arnold would know the truth, but the other kids would be none the wiser. As she pushed the envelope through his door, a single tear rolled down her cheek and fell to the ground. She walked home slowly, crying bitterly and silently, trying to find meaning in it all and knowing that one day she would._

_"Goodbye, my love," Helga whispered to no one, and the girl with the sweet pink bow silently slipped into the neighbourhood to mourn for her lost love._

Arnold dropped the page onto his bed, speechless. He didn't realise she had gotten so far in, he couldn't believe he could inspire such intense feelings in someone. He looked up through his glass ceiling, at the clouds floating by. _She had been his Valentine once,_ and no, he had not forgotten. He just hadn't known. He finally appreciated Helga for what she was, a delicate flower who had been stepped on so many times it had hardened her, but her inner beauty still glowed strong. He sighed. She was, deep down, one amazing girl, and for a brief moment, she had been his. He just wished he had realised it.

"Oh, Helga," Arnold whispered to no one, and the boy with the cornflower hair slipped silently into mouring for the creative soul that had destroyed herself that day.

THE END

A/N: Thats it then. Sort of a sad note to finish on, I kind of want to do a sequel! However, next fic in the works is How Helga Got Her Mean Back. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed! -Sky.


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